


a beautiful start (to a lifelong love letter)

by alyciaclebnam



Category: Fifth Harmony (Band)
Genre: F/F, some light-hearted fluff for the holidays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-14
Updated: 2015-12-14
Packaged: 2018-05-06 16:57:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5424767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alyciaclebnam/pseuds/alyciaclebnam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s Christmas, and all Lauren wants to do is see Camila and give her girlfriend her presents. The only thing preventing her from doing so is the freak snowstorm passing over Miami. Lauren never backs down from a challenge though, and she is 100% determined to beat Mother Nature (as well as her actual mother) if it means that she gets to be with her favourite girl on her favourite holiday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a beautiful start (to a lifelong love letter)

_The Cold Wave of January 1977 produced the only known snowfall in the Miami area of Florida. Although other portions of the state have experienced snowfall, it has not snowed in South Florida since._

Lauren eyes the Wikipedia article with disdain.

It is, for the most part, correct – up until the part where it says that it hasn’t snowed in South Florida since 1977, that is. She would know, because five minutes ago, in December 2015, exactly one week before Christmas, she’d opened her front door to accept a Very Important package from the deliveryman outside, and accidentally let in a flurry of snow.

A flurry of snow. In Miami. What the actual _fuck_.

Once she got over her initial shock at seeing the snow (in the middle of goddamn _Miami_ ), Lauren signed off for the package and the deliveryman pushed the small box into her arms before hastily retreating to his van. He was obviously not enthusiastic about having to work in this weather.

Lauren watched him drive away, the corners of her mouth downturned when she saw that the back window of his van had begun to frost over. She narrowed her eyes at the spectacle. Then she promptly marched back to her room, picked up her phone and typed the words ‘snow in Miami’ into Google.

_Climate change is likely the culprit behind the freak snowstorm in Florida… began with a cold front passing over the state… high-pressure system nearby… producing snowfall and record low temperatures as far south as Miami…_

Lauren stares at the screen blankly. Okay. So. Global warming is fucking up the entire state. That’s fine. She looks out the window and takes in the light dusting of powdery snow covering her backyard. Again – totally fine. It’s only a little snow anyway.

It’ll be over by Christmas, she tells herself. She will be able to deliver her gifts in person when the time comes, no problem.

Lauren shifts her attention to the Very Important package that she just received. She pokes around at her desk until she finds a pair of scissors, and carefully slices through the tape sealing the box shut. Inside, one of her two gifts to her girlfriend lies prettily in its case.

(Officially, they have only been dating for about a month. Mostly because feelings suck and Lauren’s gay panic lasted for three solid years. Thankfully, Lauren womaned the fuck up and _finally_ talked to Camila, and it’d been smooth sailing ever since.)

((Unofficially, they’ve probably been dating since their time on The X Factor. Lauren was just desperately cycling through the first four stages of grief regarding her attraction to Camila – denial, anger, bargaining and depression – to try and avoid the final stage – acceptance. Thus entered emotional tension, physical distance, and boy-shaped distractions. She wishes she’d come to her senses sooner, but luckily Camila has the patience of a saint. Lauren almost cried when Camila admitted that she would have waited forever for her; it was a kindness that she didn’t deserve.))

Lauren has spent a fair amount of time and money searching for (and creating) the perfect Christmas gifts to show Camila how much she cares. She really does hope that Camila likes them.

She sets aside the jewellery case that contains the first gift, and surveys what she has of the second gift. It is already partly finished, bits and pieces completed on the road between Fifth Harmony shows and appearances, while she is tucked away in a hotel room or backstage in a quiet corner.

Pencil in hand, Lauren flips to the next clean page and begins sketching.

***

Five days later, the day before Christmas Eve, Lauren finally finishes the second gift.

She uncurls herself from the bed – where she has been cooped up for the last few hours, wearing her pencil down to a stub – and closes the book gently. Her joints creak when she bends them and her muscles ache from lack of use, but she is satisfied with the knowledge that everything is done.

Well, almost everything.

She takes the completed sketchbook and the jewellery case, as well as rolls of festive wrapping paper and tape, and begins to carefully wrap the gifts. As she is tearing another piece of tape off the roll, she absentmindedly glances out the window.

It is then that her jaw drops.

The light dusting of snow is no more. Everything in her backyard is startlingly white. There must be several inches of powdery snow built up by now, and there are still flakes falling heavily from the sky.

She looks down at her half-wrapped gifts, wrinkling her nose at the snowflake-sprinkled gift-wrapping paper that is surely mocking her. She had been so absorbed in her work that she neglected to even look outside.

How will she ever deliver the presents to Camila’s house in this weather? Christmas Eve is _tomorrow_ , and it doesn’t look like the snow is going to clear up like she thought it would. She’d hoped to drive to Camila’s place after the obligatory Noche Buena feast tomorrow night and give her the gifts then.

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._

Taking a deep breath, Lauren decides to finish wrapping the presents, and to leave the logistics of the delivery until tomorrow. She will walk all the goddamn way to Camila’s house if she has to, if that is what it takes to be with her favourite girl on her favourite holiday.

 _But that’s a problem for future Lauren_ , she reminds herself, and gets back to it.

When the gifts are wrapped in their pretty paper – complete with decorative bows – Lauren takes the matching Christmas card and contemplates how to condense all of her feelings for Camila and make them fit on a 5x7 inch greeting card.

***

Christmas Eve starts off well.

Lauren wakes up to only a light snowfall, which seems to slow with every passing hour. Breakfast and lunch are a Jauregui family affair – just Lauren, Chris, Taylor, and their parents. All five of them are lounging on the couch after lunch, just relaxing and enjoying each other’s company.

With their Cuban heritage, Lauren and her siblings have grown up celebrating Noche Buena every year; it is essentially the Cuban Christmas, celebrated on Christmas Eve and possibly more lauded than Christmas Day itself. There is usually a huge feast for dinner, and all the kids will stay awake until midnight, when it comes time to open presents. Lauren assumes that the usual Noche Buena festivities will be happening at their house tonight, like every other year, and that their relatives – the ones living in Miami, at least – will be arriving soon.

As if reading her mind, her parents announce that nobody will be coming for Noche Buena this year. Almost immediately, Lauren grins. If she doesn’t have to stay home and entertain her family, that means she is free to drive over to Camila’s house and give her her gifts. Not that she _likes_ the fact that her family won’t be coming over, or the fact that she will be missing out on lechón – roasted pork, her favourite part of the feast – this year.

She just has priorities, and Camila is always number one.

But Lauren then makes the mistake of asking her parents why none of their relatives will be joining them. Unfortunately, that is when everything goes to shit.

“The snow makes it difficult to drive, mija. Our families all live on the other side of town, and we decided that the risk of getting into an accident isn’t worth it.”

With that said, her mother walks to the entryway and plucks Lauren and Chris’s car keys from their respective hooks beside the front door. Having obviously been banned from her only mode of transport to Camila, Lauren practically bursts a blood vessel.

She throws a temper tantrum that any toddler would be impressed by. Chris is much more mature regarding his irritation; he just drops a couple of swear words and shoots them the evil eye. Mike and Clara stare at their eldest children with unamused expressions.

“There will be no discussion about this!” Mike says loudly, silencing both teenagers. “Neither of you are to drive while there is still snow on the roads! Your cars aren’t equipped to deal with these conditions – you can’t even see out of your windows right now because we don’t have an ice scraper to get the frost off of them. Even if we did let you drive, your wheels could lose traction on fresh snow or black ice and you could skid out of control.”

“There’s only like, five inches of snow,” Lauren complains. She refuses to wait until the snow melts to see Camila. With the weather being as unpredictable as it is, she has no idea when that could be. “Plus, the snow is only deep in places that have been completely untouched, unlike the roads.”

“Two inches of snow is enough to cause a serious accident,” Mike counters. “Which you would know if you were familiar with driving in this kind of weather.”

“It’s not that we don’t trust you,” Clara cuts in, playing good cop to her husband’s bad cop. “It’s everyone else out there that we don’t trust. We live in _Miami_. The people on the roads right now don’t know any more about driving in snow than you do. It’s _dangerous_. Letting you drive out there is like giving you permission to get into an accident. We won’t do it.”

If it were any other time, Lauren would not be this concerned about the snow. Hell, she would probably welcome it, because it’s _snow_ in fucking _Miami_. But right now, the weather is proving to be her biggest adversary.

Sensing that the conversation with her parents has reached its end, Lauren rolls her eyes and stomps to her bedroom. She petulantly slams the door and leans against it with her arms crossed. She looks at Camila’s presents, sitting innocently on her bed, just waiting to be given to their owner.

She wonders if there are any couriers that are willing to do a same-day-delivery on Christmas Eve. But then she thinks,

 _Fuck that. I WILL_ _see my girl and give her her present. And there’s nothing they can do to stop me._

She is rummaging around in her wardrobe to find a bag large enough to fit the presents when she comes across her camera bag – a large rucksack full of photography gear and equipment like lenses, flashguns, memory cards, spare batteries, a tripod. Her parents had bought it for her when her interest in photography became more serious. It’s a hobby that she’s sadly had less time for, after getting caught up in the Fifth Harmony whirlwind.

A vague plan begins to form in her mind then, and Lauren smirks at her own genius.

***

She tiptoes back out into the main house with her camera bag slung over her shoulder. After assuming that her parents are sufficiently busy in the kitchen – probably whipping up a smaller version of their usual Noche Buena feast for tonight – Lauren sets her plan into motion.

She gently lifts her mother’s car keys off the hook and stuffs them into her pocket. She then moves to unlock the front door, and is fully prepared for the noise to alert her parents that she is going outside.

Lauren has one foot out the door when Mike pops his head around the corner and says, “Where do you think you’re going?”

Lauren feigns residual annoyance from their earlier conversation, which is not a challenge whatsoever, and scoffs.

“Don’t worry, I’m not driving off in my car. You’ve got my keys, remember?”

Mike grins. “Damn right we do. Hid them where you’ll never find them. But you didn’t answer my question – where are you going?”

Lauren lifts the rucksack on her shoulder, drawing his attention to it.

“I’m going outside with my camera stuff to take photos of the snow. Is that okay with you, or does it sound too dangerous?”

Mike ignores the last part, but warily accepts her answer and tells her not to go too far. Lauren just hums noncommittally.

***

Once Lauren is outside, she hightails it to her mother’s car, unlocks the door and slips inside. She places the rucksack on the passenger seat. It no longer carries any of her camera equipment; instead, the bag holds both of Camila’s presents.

After she figures out how to blast the heat, Lauren shifts the car into reverse and slowly inches down the driveway. She only notices her mother sitting in the backseat when she is a couple of feet from the road.

Heaving a sigh, Lauren rolls back up the driveway and shuts off the car. She trudges back through the snow and into the house. Just inside the front door, her father is waiting with an outstretched hand and she turns over the keys with an exasperated huff.

“I didn’t drive off in _my_ car, so technically I didn’t lie to you.”

Mike makes a show of plucking his own car keys from the rack by the door and Lauren glowers at all the empty hooks.

***

“You’re so bad at being bad, you didn’t even get out of the _driveway_ ,” Chris guffaws.

Lauren rolls her eyes. Taylor elbows Chris in the side. The three siblings are sitting in her room, bored out of their minds. They would usually have their crazy cousins and aunts and uncles around to occupy their time, but now that their Noche Buena feast is only going to be a small affair, they have nothing else to do.

“Why are you so desperate to get out of the house anyway?” Taylor asks. “What’s so important that it can’t wait until after this freak snowstorm is over?”

“I need to see Camila,” Lauren admits. “I have something for her.”

They must hear something in the tone of her voice (probably desperation), because Chris and Taylor share a look. They nod at each other – though Chris does it somewhat reluctantly – and turn to Lauren at the same time. Lauren, to be honest, is weirded out by their synchronicity.

“What?” She asks, somewhat self-consciously.

“We’re gonna distract mom and dad while you look for your car keys,” Taylor announces brightly.

Chris sighs, like helping her is an ordeal. “I saw mom go back to their bedroom after they took our keys. They probably hid them somewhere in there.”

Lauren narrows her eyes at them. “What do you want in return for helping me?”

“Money,” Chris says immediately, but Taylor smacks his side and says, “Nothing. Christmas is the season of giving – consider it a gift from us.”

***

Lauren doesn’t ask what Chris and Taylor have planned, just hopes that it is enough to distract their parents for a few minutes while she searches their bedroom.

Unfortunately, barely a minute into her frenetic investigation, Chris texts her a warning – a simple ‘911’ indicating that their parents have evaded both his and Taylor’s efforts. Lauren curses under her breath and hurries to make sure that she hasn’t accidentally moved anything out of place during her search.

She sorely underestimates the speed at which her parents can reach their bedroom from the kitchen, and they catch her just as she walks through the door.

Lauren traipses back into the main house, Mike and Clara on either side of her. They turn their disappointed gazes to their other two children, who are sitting on the couch feigning innocence, before heading back into the kitchen.

***

It’s mid afternoon now, and Lauren is about to execute attempt number three.

“It’s around the side of the house,” Taylor reminds her. “Good luck; it looks cold outside.”

Lauren hugs her sister and thanks her again. If this plan doesn’t work, she will most likely give up. She’ll call Camila and simply explain that the universe hates her. And that her house is being run by two Christmas Grinches named Mike and Clara Jauregui. Camila would laugh at the melodrama, she’s sure.

Chris is leaning on the doorjamb, arms crossed as he surveys his sisters.

“If you die out there, can I have the money you’ve earned from being in Fifth Harmony?”

Lauren laughs outright. “What money? Do you know how much it costs to fund five nationwide tours, plus an international run of shows? _And_ how many people we’ve needed to pay in order to do all that?”

Chris wrinkles his nose and then nods in understanding. “Fair enough.”

Lauren shakes her head and pulls him into a hug anyway. “If I die, I give you permission to sell my stuff on eBay. Maybe you’ll get lucky and some crazy Harmonizers will go broke trying to outbid each other for my memorabilia.”

She leaves her siblings there, and heads to the front door to begin her final endeavour. As soon as she turns the lock, her mother comes over to investigate.

“Are you trying to escape again? We have all the car keys, so unless you plan on hotwiring one of them…”

Lauren sighs. She adopts an air of absolute defeat. “No. I’m going out with my camera for real this time.”

Clara glances at the rucksack – her camera bag – that is slung over her shoulder, and then nods. Lauren takes that as a go-ahead, and walks out the front door. As soon as she is outside her mother’s sights, she drops all pretences.

She was lying, of course; living in close quarters with four other girls and being able to lie about who ate the last of someone’s snacks is a necessary skill for survival. All her camera equipment is on her desk, and Camila’s presents are still safely contained within the rucksack.

She rounds the side of the house and finds what she is looking for, exactly where Taylor said it would be. She smirks.

There, in all its glory, is Taylor’s old bicycle – training wheels included.

Lauren inspects the bike carefully, pushing it back and forth to make sure it still works, and to check that the rusty chain won’t snap as soon as she jumps on. She tests the brakes and nods when they seem to be in working order. She swings a leg over the seat and pushes off down the snowy driveway.

 _Camila is worth it_ , she tells herself as she squints her eyes against the chilly wind and light snowfall.

***

What is usually a 20-minute drive turns into an hour and a half long bike ride.

Lauren’s calves are aching – who knew that trying to cycle through a few inches of powdery snow could be so difficult – and her back is sweating like a motherfucker underneath her jacket and backpack, but she finally makes it to the Cabello house.

She tucks the bike under the awning of a window at the side of the house, and approaches the front door. She pats down her hair, wincing as she feels how matted it is because of the wind and melted snow, before finally knocking.

***

Three-quarters of the Cabello family greet her once the door swings open. Sinu and Alejandro give her warm hugs and the usual festive fanfare before returning to the kitchen to prepare what she assumes is their own Noche Buena feast.

Sofi waits until her parents are gone before she practically tackles Lauren in an intense hug and starts rambling on about something to do with unicorns or princesses or unicorn princesses. Sofi didn’t pause for long enough for Lauren to even breathe, let alone question which one it was.

When Sofi gets called back into the kitchen to help with the food, Lauren makes her way down the hall to Camila’s bedroom. She raps her knuckles gently against the closed door and waits for a response.

A few seconds of silence and then-

“Hey!”

Camila is standing in the open doorway, breathless and wearing only a pair of jeans and a bra.

“Did I interrupt your ‘alone time’? Should I come back later?” Lauren asks, her mouth curving into a sly smile around the questioning words.

Camila rolls her eyes fondly before pulling her girlfriend into the room and shutting the door. “Get your mind out of the gutter. I was just trying on some ugly Christmas sweaters, and I can’t decide which one to wear tonight – I love them all too much.”

“I’ll help you choose. Model them for me?” Lauren asks with an innocent smile. Without breaking character, she adds, “Preferably without pants.”

Camila chuckles and shakes her head. Lauren steamrolls right over her response as she tugs Camila closer and rests her hands on her sinfully bare waist.

“Do you happen to also be unsure about any sets of matching Christmas lingerie? Because I am totally down to watch you model them as well,” She says in a low voice, and raises her eyebrows salaciously. “To help you decide which ones to wear, of course.”

“I don’t have any Christmas lingerie, no,” Camila says lightly, wrapping her arms loosely around Lauren’s neck. “But I _do_ have some regular lingerie on the cards, to go under tonight’s outfit.”

Lauren narrows her eyes at Camila’s smiling face, trying to gauge whether she is being serious or not. Unfortunately for her, Camila does not give anything away.

“Will that be my present?” Lauren ventures carefully.

Camila’s brows draw together and her mouth turns down at the corners. “But it’s not wrapped.”

Lauren gives Camila’s jeans a pointed look. “I beg to differ.”

Camila snorts and it shatters whatever illusion she thinks she has created. Lauren smiles winningly at her. She was five seconds away from asking if Camila was telling the truth about the lingerie, and she’s glad to be spared the embarrassment.

Camila then tugs Lauren forward by the collar of her leather jacket – still half frozen from the ride over – and she barely has enough time to swing the rucksack off her back and safely onto the ground before she is being pulled down onto the bed.

“I like a woman who can assert her dominance in the bedroom. It’s sexy,” Lauren comments as she rearranges her limbs and lifts her upper body a little, so she isn’t squashing her girlfriend beneath her full weight.

Camila tugs her forward once more and it’s all Lauren can do to stop from crashing down on top of her. She feels Camila’s breath play across her skin, inviting and warm. She licks her suddenly dry lips.

“Stop talking like a hormonal teenager and kiss me already,” Camila says impatiently, glancing down at Lauren’s mouth with undisguised longing.

Lauren’s laugh is husky and low, and she looks at Camila with twinkling eyes. “I’m sorry, which one of us is talking like a hormonal teenager right now?”

“Lauren…” Camila says in what Lauren is sure she thinks is a warning, but it just sounds cutesy because Camila is entirely incapable of being intimidating.

Lauren leans down until she is a hair’s breadth from Camila’s mouth, and Camila positively whines. Their lips brush lightly as Lauren asks another (extremely valid) question.

“What about your parents? And Sofi? They’re just down the hall.”

Camila groans in the back of her throat and she says, almost desperately, “Fuck ‘em.”

And that’s when Lauren knows that she’s done for. Camila has always been her weakness, but Camila _swearing_? If her clothes weren’t still damp from the snow earlier, she would be burning a goddamn fever.

Camila has certainly gotten into the spirit of Christmas this year – her lips taste like peppermint chapstick and her is breath tinged with a hint of cinnamon. She is like her favourite holiday personified, and that idea makes Lauren smile into the kiss.

Camila’s body is warm beneath Lauren’s fingers, and Lauren is very much appreciative of the expanse of skin that her hands are free to wander across, since Camila is not wearing a shirt. The jeans are a minor issue, something she could rectify with the flick of a button and some awkward tugging; the bra, unfortunately, needs to stay on, because Lauren wants a reminder to not take things too far – because Camila’s parents are only a few rooms over.

Catching their daughter in bed with her girlfriend is probably not on their Christmas list.

Still, Lauren can’t help herself from doing things to make Camila moan, though she does try her best to capture the sounds with her mouth. Camila is receptive to her every touch, arching her back and gripping Lauren’s shoulders like the pleasure is too much to handle, and Lauren knows then that every hurdle she has struggled to pass today – the weather, her parents, the universe – was ultimately worth it.

***

Their kisses eventually grow languid and slow until they come to natural stop. Lauren presses her lips to Camila’s one last time before she rolls off her girlfriend and sighs contentedly.

“Totally worth the hour and a half it took to get here,” She comments offhandedly.

Camila turns her head and meets her satisfied gaze with an incredulous expression. “An hour and a half? Were the roads really that bad?”

Lauren flushes then, remembering that Camila does not know that she had her car privileges revoked until the snow passes. “Actually, I, uh… I didn’t drive here,” She admits reluctantly.

“Oh,” Camila’s expression fades. “Did your parents drop you off?”

“No, I- uh…” Lauren scrunches her nose and grudgingly confesses her to her plight regarding transport. “They banned me from driving in this weather and took my car keys. I may or may not have used Taylor’s old bike to get here.”

“Lauren Michelle Jauregui!” Camila scolds. It is perhaps the first time that Lauren has been genuinely afraid of her girlfriend. “It is below _freezing_ outside, and you rode a _bicycle_ to get to my house?!”

“Yes?” Lauren answers confusedly. She’s unsure as to whether that was a rhetorical question.

Camila groans – not out of pleasure, unlike earlier – and it makes feel Lauren somewhat guilty for whatever crime she has apparently committed.

“I want to be angry at you because that’s so irresponsible and _dangerous_ but oh my _God_ , that’s oddly romantic.”

“So, just double checking – you’re not angry at me?” Lauren asks, because she needs to know whether she will be spending the rest of the holiday grovelling.

Camila exhales heavily through her nose. “No, but I _am_ annoyed that you didn’t just text me – I would have gotten my parents to pick you up or something.”

Lauren is ashamed that she didn’t think of that. Camila seems to know this, because she gently pinches one of her reddening cheeks and barely holds back a smile.

“I came here to give you your Christmas presents,” Lauren announces, eager to distract from her shame. “Obviously you can’t open them until midnight because of tradition or whatever, but I wanted to be the one to bring them to you.”

“You rode a bicycle through a snowstorm just to bring me Christmas presents?” Camila asks softly, her brows twisted up in a way that looks touched.

Lauren just smiles. “And to be with you, of course.”

Camila wraps her limbs around Lauren’s torso and says, face pressed into the skin of Lauren’s chest, “You really are one of a kind, Lauren Jauregui.”

Lauren relaxes into the koala hug and circles her arms around Camila to anchor Camila’s body to her own. She wants to say the words, those three little words that she has waited forever to say, but that would ruin one of her carefully thought out Christmas gifts.

She has held her tongue for so long now; a few more hours won’t hurt.

They lay together for a while longer, Lauren’s thumbs tracing circles across the bare skin of Camila’s lower back. Camila’s breathing is even and deep; Lauren thinks she may be asleep. Her phone chimes with a text, and she struggles to extract it from her pocket without jostling Camila. It doesn’t work.

“Who is it?” Camila asks sleepily, adjusting her head on Lauren’s chest.

Lauren sighs at the message from her mother. “Just my mom. She wants me to be home before dinner – Noche Buena festivities and all that. How are you guys celebrating tonight?”

“The usual feast,” Camila answers, her tiredness seeping into her voice and making it slightly raspy. Her eyelashes are fluttering against Lauren’s skin, and Lauren knows that she is fighting to stay awake. “Family, friends, food… all you need in life, right?”

Lauren chuckles, and she tells Camila to go back to sleep. She feels Camila’s breathing relax again, and she finds herself moving in time with her.

_Inhale, exhale…. Inhale, exhale… Inhale, exhale…_

Lauren falls asleep to Camila’s steady breathing against her skin and a feeling in her chest that warms her to the bone.

***

Lauren wakes when she hears Sinu calling for them, asking for their help to set up for dinner. Camila is the picture of calm. She untangles herself from Lauren’s embrace, stretches, and dons one of her ugly Christmas sweaters at random.

And Lauren?

Lauren freaks the fuck out. She looks at the time and realises that she should have been home half an hour ago. She panics, because it will take three times as long as that to get home via her chosen method of transport.

Camila does her best to soothe her but Lauren is already past the point of no return. There is nothing she can do to save herself from the impending wrath of her parents. She has single-handedly ruined their Noche Buena celebrations, she is sure of it.

Camila, having probably realised that Lauren cannot be pacified, simply tugs her girlfriend out the door and towards the main house. They head down the hall, turn the corner into the dining room – following the inviting smell of roast pork that has permeated the rest of the house – and are greeted by a flash of light.

When Lauren sees the rest of her family, mixed in with the Cabellos and standing around an already set table, she frowns in confusion. There is another flash of light and Lauren realises that someone is taking her picture.

Mike grabs her attention then, waving around _her_ camera – the one she’d unpacked from her rucksack and left at home on her desk.

“Looks like you forgot this when you went out to take pictures of the snow,” He says lightly.

He doesn’t seem angry – neither does her mom, when Lauren glances at her – and she is completely baffled. Mike uses her moment of bewilderment to press some buttons on her camera and then turns the display screen to face her.

It’s a picture of Lauren, taken through what must be the front window of their house. She’s riding down the driveway on Taylor’s bike.

Camila giggles at the photo, probably because Lauren looks comical, riding on a too-small bicycle with training wheels and her knees brushing the handlebars. Lauren narrows her eyes at her traitorous girlfriend. Camila just shrugs and gives her an innocuous smile.

“H-how- _why_ -”

Lauren’s thoughts are so chaotic that she doesn’t know which question to ask first.

“We drove here,” Mike says, explaining how her family is at the Cabello house.

“But you said our cars aren’t equipped to deal with these weather conditions?” Lauren says with furrowed brows.

“ _Your_ cars. As in, yours and Chris’s cars,” Mike reiterates. “I got my car fitted with snow tires as soon as the snow hit a week ago, just in case in the storms got bad.”

“Okay, so _why_ are you guys here?”

“We were coming here to celebrate Noche Buena anyway,” Clara laughs at their daughter’s flustered state. “Our families can’t come to us because it’s too dangerous to drive from such a far distance, but the Cabellos are only 20 minutes away. Sinu and Alejandro agreed that it would be nice to celebrate together.”

“And you just _forgot_ to mention that to me?” Lauren questions. She’s torn between being angry that they’ve tricked her, and oddly proud that they’ve gotten away with it.

Chris claps his sister on the back as rounds the table, probably to get closer to the roast pork. “Just admit it. They got you good.”

Lauren’s eye twitches. She glowers at her family. “I hate you all.”

“We love you too,” Mike and Clara tell her, before helping Camila’s parents hand out plates and cutlery.

***

The subsequent feast is glorious. Lauren relaxes enough to even laugh at the prank that her family has – unfortunately – successfully pulled on her. She is woman enough to concede that it must have been funny to watch her desperate attempts to escape the house and deliver her gifts to Camila.

Camila smiles sweetly at Lauren when she says that all her efforts were just so that she could be with her favourite girl on her favourite holiday. She doesn’t realise that everyone hears her say that, so she blushes hard when their families coo and murmur about how cute they are. Camila flushes lightly – nothing like Lauren’s tomato-red cheeks, of course – but says nothing, just reaches beneath the table so she can hold Lauren’s hand.

***

When the clock strikes midnight, Sofi excitedly tears into her presents with the adults watching. While they are all busy exchanging their own gifts and chattering on about things that neither Lauren nor Camila particularly care about, the two girls slip away to Camila’s room.

As soon as the door shuts behind them, Lauren presses Camila against the solid surface and kisses her until they are both gasping for air.

“Merry Christmas,” Laurens breathes when they finally pull away, and Camila brushes her nose against Lauren’s, murmuring the same sentiment in return.

“I have a present for you,” Camila announces, taking Lauren by the hand and pulling her towards the bed.

She makes Lauren sit while she walks to her closet and procures a gift from its depths. Lauren takes it with a snicker. It is terribly wrapped, which means that Camila likely did the job herself. Camila sits beside her on the bed. Lauren tries to rip into the paper, but Camila has almost completely covered the thing in tape.

Camila nudges her shoulder when Lauren laughs but, really, she must have used half a roll of tape on this. She eventually manages to tear it open, through virtue of a small section of paper that Camila has miraculously not covered in tape, and the contents make her heart melt.

It’s a clear glass jar with a locking lid, filled to the brim with folded pieces of paper. On the front is a sticker that says ‘Things That Lauren Jauregui Does to Make Me Happy’.

“I know you still feel guilty because you think you’ve wasted the last three years being in denial about us, and trying to figure yourself out,” Camila begins, and Lauren smiles sadly at her because it’s true. “So I decided to show you that, while I wish we could have been together sooner, I’m not bitter about having had to wait for you. Because you’ve given me _so_ much over these past few years, even before we were together romantically, and I wanted you to know that I’m grateful to have had you at all.”

Lauren wipes the tear that is threatening to fall from her eye, and Camila gently takes the jar from her. She unlocks the lid, flips it open and takes out the piece of paper on top. She unfolds it, and then hands it to Lauren to read.

_She laughs at my jokes even when they’re not funny._

Lauren chuckles at that, and Camila sends her a meaningful look.

“Okay, point proven. What else?”

_She doesn’t complain when I make her listen to a new song that I really like, not even when I play it on repeat until I hate it._

_She pays attention when I talk, even when it’s about something I know she doesn’t care about._

_She holds my hand when the girls want to watch scary movies during movie nights, and doesn’t protest even when I’m gripping her hand so hard, she loses circulation in her fingers._

_She swaps her food with me when I accidentally order something too spicy, because she knows that I don’t like really hot food._

_When I’m trying to say something to the girls but they start talking over one another and I end up going quiet, she makes them shut up and listen to me._

_She makes me feel important._

_She makes me feel special._

_She looks at me like I mean everything in the world to her._

Camila hands her more pieces of paper and they continue like this until Lauren is so full of adoration for the girl beside her, she is almost bursting with the words that she cannot say quite yet. The jar is half empty now and Lauren tells Camila that she wants to savour the rest of them. She puts the jar by her feet and reaches for the rucksack that she’d set down earlier. She pulls out the larger present and hands it to Camila, who doesn’t hesitate to open the gift.

It’s a sketchbook-slash-photo-album that Lauren has been working on for the last month or so, about all the little moments that they have shared over the years. Camila is running a hand reverently across the front page, which bears the title ‘The Story of Us’ in neat calligraphy. She watches as Camila flips the pages and gazes at each sketch with wonder in her eyes. Every drawing is captioned, and Lauren watches Camila mouth the words that she has written.

 _The first time we met_ is written beneath a picture of all five girls. They are standing on the stage after having been eliminated at the end of boot camp; seconds away from being told that they are now are a girl group. Camila and Lauren are holding hands.

 _The moment I realised that I was hers._ It’s a sketch of the bedroom that they shared in The X Factor mansion. They are in the same bed. Camila is curled in her arms, fast asleep. Lauren’s eyes are closed, but she is smiling.

 _The time I caught her dancing to no music in the kitchen at midnight and realised I wanted her to be mine_ is written below a picture of Camila, messy haired and in pyjamas, by herself in a kitchen. It’s in one of the many apartments that they’ve occupied during their time as a group. Lauren has captured her in the most awkward position, but she is wearing a carefree little smile on her face.

Lauren watches Camila absorb page after page in silent admiration.

 _The night I finally came clean about my feelings._ It’s a drawing of the two of them backstage on the Reflection Tour, made obvious by the fact that they are still wearing their stage outfits. Lauren has tears running down her cheeks and Camila seems to be on the verge of sobbing, but neither is crying out of sadness, that much is clear.

When Camila reaches the final page, Lauren waits for her to read the caption beneath the blank page before she hands over her second gift.

Underneath the wrapping paper, in a clear jewellery case, lies a round pendant with a silver necklace chain. A soundwave is inscribed on the pendant; three connected groups of jagged lines are distinctly visible. Lauren knows that Camila has heard of soundwave art, and she hopes that she knows what this means.

“I love you,” Lauren begins without preamble, and she can see the moment that Camila’s eyes start to water. “I’ve missed so many opportunities to tell you that, and I wanted to immortalise the words – _my_ words – and give them to you, to remind you that you truly are loved. Always.”

Camila doesn’t say anything in response. Lauren stares at her, heart pounding in her chest, as she gets up and goes to her desk. She doesn’t know what Camila is doing because she cannot see past her back, so she says her name quietly – hesitantly – almost like she is afraid of what may happen next.

Camila comes to sit beside her again, and drops a coloured piece of paper in the half-empty jar at their feet. She raises her eyebrow at Lauren until the green-eyed girl reaches in to take it back out, smoothing the paper with her fingers.

_She loves me, and I love her too._

Lauren bites her lip to stifle her smile. She takes the jewellery case and helps Camila put on the necklace. She then reaches for the sketchbook and opens to the final page, which has been left intentionally blank. Camila seems to understand what she is asking, because she makes herself more comfortable on the bed.

Lauren reaches for her rucksack and brings out a pencil, and begins to sketch anew. When she is finished, she looks at the caption and cannot help the corners of her mouth from turning upwards.

_The night I told her that I loved her._

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this](http://thislemonwateronpoint.tumblr.com/post/135086781433/prompt-established-camren-non-au-and-upset-bc-it) prompt. Title credits go to Sara Bareilles’ I Choose You.


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